


Amelia Jane

by Monalisasandmadhatters20



Series: The life of Amelia Jane [1]
Category: Rocketman (2019), Rocketman (2019) RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bernie is amazing for all three of them, Child Abuse, Depression, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, M/M, Suicide Attempt, sometimes bad bdsm etiquette, underaged drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 18,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22913281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monalisasandmadhatters20/pseuds/Monalisasandmadhatters20
Summary: What if Elton in the very beginning of his launch to stardom had a child?  A daughter who he barely saw, due to his obligations and all around lifestyle.  She comes every summer to visit for at least two weeks, and each year he seems to get worse.  Or maybe she is just old enough to understand to a degree...This year, Amelia made a promise to get to the bottom of it, and finally get her father the help he needs.  If only her stepfather would stop blocking her every move, she might actually be able to figure this shit out....
Relationships: Elton John/John Reid
Series: The life of Amelia Jane [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691140
Comments: 12
Kudos: 12





	1. The First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelia returns to her Dad and Papa's house for the summer with a mission

She should not be looking through the window. She was spying. She knew that. If her stepfather had seen her now, squatting in the bloody bushes like a common thief, she would be in great trouble before she even began her ‘vacation’. 

Luckily for her she knew where to snoop without being seen after being caught often when she was younger.

She needed to know what she was walking into for (at least) the beginning of her summer visit. If her father would actually be up to caring for her, or if she would be left to her own devices instead. It was easier for her to have that knowledge before entering the house of hell.

What she saw broke her heart. Her father was being held against the wall. Her stepfather had his wrists in a bruising grip above his head. ‘Papa’ as she was forced to call him from the time she was small had his whole body pushed against him, his knee in his groin, no doubt whispering various abuses that she was once too young to understand. Her father was sobbing his usual ‘ _ sorries’ _ that were not heard, never WERE heard, and in her opinion, never needed to be said in the first place.

She shook her head and squared her shoulders. She had to keep hope that her stepfather would be leaving soon. He hated her with a passion, and had tried numerous times to get her father to revoke his visitation rights. 

That was the only thing he did not give up for John, her. He would give every part of himself to the wanker, apparently, but he would never give up his only child. 

Amelia smiled slightly as she made her way up the front walk, remembering that heated argument from when she was just a wee one, not too long after they began “dating”. She did not know then the extent of their relationship at four years old, of course, and at 14 she was still learning. 

Each new thing she learned made her blood boil. One day she would understand, her father had told her numerous times. One day they would sit her down and explain. She planned to make this the year in which they did.

She knocked on the front door, feeling like an interloper. She always did here. She shifted her rucksack awkwardly to her other shoulder, shifting her weight from foot to foot, awaiting her father’s maid to answer. That was the routine. Natasha would answer, exclaim at how much she had grown this year, then show her to the dining room like she had never been in the manor house before. She would then be left to her own devices before either her father or stepfather would deign to even acknowledge she had arrived. 

She was a few days early for her stay this summer, so she knew she was not just an intruder in her father and stepfather’s lives this summer, but an unexpected one at that. Her mother was ready to get rid of her the day school let out for break. She ‘cared’ for Amelia throughout the school year, and was due for some fun in her life. 

She didn't even know if her mother warned her Dad and Papa of her arrival. From not only having to Uber to the manor house (And boy was her mum displeased at having heard from her so soon), and the state of affairs in his bedroom she figured she hadn’t. 

He was normally good at keeping their relationship away from her eyes, whatever their relationship actually was... She scuffed the toe of her worn trainers on the cement step, wishing she could be anywhere but here.

The door opened, and she stepped into Natasha’s arms gladly. Routine or not, she cared for Natasha greatly. She had been in her father’s employ since before Amelia was even born, being a product of a one night stand as she was, and more of a mother to her than her own even with her short stays at the estate.

“Oh Amelia dear! How wonderful to see you! I didn’t know to expect you today. I thought you were coming on Monday! I don’t even have your room fully prepared yet!"

“Yes well, you know my mother… The moment school was out for this session she put me on a plane here and herself to Majorca. Did she not ring daddy?"

She and Natasha shared a laugh at the absurd question. “You know she didn’t, Amelia. She loves even now making things difficult for him! What he ever saw in her, even for just the evening arm candy… Oh bother, where are my manners? Please come in! I have some tarts and tea in the dining hall ready. I called them both down for tea not too long ago. Help yourself and I will tell him you are here.”

Amelia shrugged her rucksack off at the door. She knew somehow it would make it to her bedroom. It was much too close to her father’s room to travel to at this time for her to be comfortable. She always wished one year her room would be magically moved to the other side of the estate without her having to ask. She hoped the feelings of awkwardness would ease soon enough.

She made her way to the dining table, taking her I-Phone out of her back pocket. Her father would want to do a line or two before facing her, and maybe even drink a couple fingers of gin. Put him in front of a live audience and he was comfortable in his skin, yet something as simple as tea with his only daughter and his anxiety would get the better of him. 

She never confessed to having the best father, but she loved him all the same. 

He was much better to her than her mother, who complained about her imperfect daughter and all she put her through on an hourly basis. Her father had told Amelia she reminded him of his own mother after hearing the stories of the years during each of her summer stays, but never did anything to take her from there, even knowing personally how terrible the environment could be on a child.

She took a bite of her raspberry scone as she stirred the milk into her tea, and read the latest gossip on facebook. She knew her Papa would scoff at her old phone, her thrift store clothes, and threadbare trainers before he even entered the dining room. 

Appearance was everything according to him. She was always found lacking in that respect.

“With what the judge forces him to pay Lacey, why do you own second hand anything?,” he always said, and that day he did not disappoint. He sat across from her, well groomed and in a tailored black suit, which was also no doubt also paid for by her father, and picked up his newspaper. He looked ready to ignore her after that quip. 

That was more than fine with her. She could live almost happily during her time here if he had just ignored her like he was doing now. She only wished her tart didn’t taste like ash in her mouth in his presence. 

“Amelia Jane, as I live and breathe!”

She leapt to her feet, a huge smile on her face. As many issues they might have had, as dysfunctional as their relationship was, she loved him more than anything. “Daddy!” 

She ran and jumped into his arms giggling when he spun her around. He smelled of alcohol, vomit, and cigarettes. He sported an all around body odor showing he hadn’t showered in days like he always did when on a bender. He was thin, much thinner than the last time she saw him when he played in London. His hair thinning more and more. She could see the white in his nostrils, remnants of his most recent line, but still she couldn’t be happier to see him.

He set her down on her feet gently, keeping her hand in his. “You have grown so much this year. Becoming such a young lady. Stop it! You make me feel so old!,” he said, laughter in his voice as he led her back to the table. “Come, come now, sit down and tell me all about what’s been going on with you!”

And she did. The fact that his smile never quite reached his eyes was not a deterrent. Neither was the fact that he had hunched into himself while she spoke of school, or the fact he continuously glanced at John as though trying to decipher his mood. It was always like that the first day, the first week, no matter how many times she wished for it to be different.

She would need to ring her Uncle Bernie soon. She would figure out the best way to help her father. She was old enough now to be a help and not a hindrance, thank you very much. She really couldn’t be the only one to notice this was all wrong, right? How much money was spent to keep this all under the radar?

As much as she wanted to hide out in her room when her Papa had  _ that _ look on his face, she felt her stomach drop when she was finally ordered out anyway.


	2. Life as we know it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John looks for answers

“Why didn’t you tell me she was coming early, pet?,” John asked, as he undressed for bed. He was incredibly annoyed at her early arrival, but knew he needed to be calm for this. He didn’t know as of yet if Elton had kept it from him purposefully, of course, and for some strange reason, Elton adored the demon child more than anything in the world. He needed to tread carefully, lest he lose all the ground he had covered this past year.

He didn’t really like the little twerp at all though he had grown accustomed to her presence over the years. Her attitude was hostile even at the best of times, no matter what he did for her. He had tried over the years to form a relationship with her for his submissive’s sake. Sometimes he felt she purposely made it difficult to even be in the same room. She had seen bits and pieces of their life together and came to her own conclusions.

He was a horrid man and all that, even though what they had was completely consensual. He never allowed her to see how much those accusations hurt him.

She hid them from her father, but not from John. It was hard at times to not tell her the truth. It was hard not to tell her that he was not some random abuser, and that their relationship was made with her father’s health in mind. But Elton did not wish for her to know the full extent of their relationship, just in case she was not old enough to keep it to herself, and John had to respect that. He could see the headlines now if she even uttered one word to her ghastly mother. He didn’t trust her, and it was somewhat endearing to see how little Elton trusted her as well.

Amelia  _ thankfully _ was hardly his daughter after all, no matter how many years they had been together.

He did not enjoy how Elton did not obey him quite as readily while she was there, though. This relationship was more for Elton than himself. He did benefit greatly, and cared for Elton deeply, but he knew he could move on if needed. John was Elton’s strength. 

Amelia only came to visit during her summer break, and usually for no more than two weeks. They both knew that Lacey abused her horribly, as well as the string of men she brought home in which was how she even came to be in the first place, but John did not like disobedience she brought with her, and Elton did not like having to hide his true self for long periods of time. 

They could both be selfish bastards in their own right. Perhaps that’s why they worked so well.

He looked down at the man kneeling naked before him, his arms held behind his back. He tsked, taking in his hunched shoulders. “Shoulders back, pet, you know better. I should not have to correct something so simple, should I?” He watched Elton adjust himself, smiling at his quick intake of breath. Elton needed this tonight after seeing Amelia more than John had known. “Good, pet. Now answer my question. Verbally please.”

“Please, Sir, I really didn’t know she was coming early. When you allowed me to speak with Lacey last month, she said Amelia’s flight was booked on the 21st. You have it in our calendar as the 21st. Natasha and Bernie have it on the 21st so I know that’s what she told me. I swear I didn’t know. And… and you heard what Amelia said during tea, that her mother just sent her away as soon as she got home from school...”

“You didn’t speak to her at all when high or drunk, do you think? I know you don’t always remember those conversations, pet.” Elton shook his head quickly. John noticed tears beginning to pool in his eyes. “You realize I will have to look through the detailed phone records tomorrow, just in case. If I find you just don’t remember the conversation, your phone will be suspended for some time. That is why I take your phone if you are dipping while I am home. But I apparently may not be able to trust you while I am at work either. That saddens me greatly, pet.”

“I understand,” he whispered, still stubbornly refusing to allow the tears pooling in his eyes to fall.

“There will be no complaints about the punishment if it comes to it. Am I understood?” Elton nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. “You will sleep in the corner tonight, pet, and we will discuss this more tomorrow. I want you to think about your place, and how just because Amelia is here it will not change. You usually have a hard time remembering it when she is here, and I would like this time to be different.” 

“Yes, Sir, I do, too.”

John leaned down and gave his forehead a kiss. “Goodnight, love.”

“Good night, Sir,” Elton replied, crawling to the large pillow in the corner of the room. He curled up in the fetal position and closed his eyes, allowing the hot tears to finally fall down his cheeks.

John tucked a soft blanket over him. He may be a bastard, but he ensured Elton had the best of everything. The large pillow was as comfortable as their bed (he’d tested it before he bought it, and didn’t he look like a fool that day in the department store), and he had already spritzed his cologne on both the pillow and the blanket.

Sometimes all Elton needed was a night out of his arms to remind himself of his place. John hoped this time would be no different.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelia has some realizations, and her Uncle Bernie is her partner in crime.

Amelia stood in front of the mirror, gazing critically at her reflection. She never cared much for her appearance, except when she was faced with her stepfather. Although denims and simple tee worked wonderfully in Pinner, it didn’t do so much here. As ‘the daughter of a well-known performer’, she needed to look the part as much as possible.

It was damn near impossible for her to look the part…

The paste she had bought on her way to the estate worked well in hiding the numerous bruises her mother’s latest boyfriend gave her before she left for her ‘attitude’. She felt more comfortable in her red halter dress than she would have otherwise. Her father had enough stress without seeing her hurt.

She forgot how terrible the Los Angeles sunshine was before departing from Heathrow, and the looks she received at LAX in her faded hoodie and corduroy trousers were forever etched in her brain.

She put on the overly-large blue and bejeweled monstrosities her father had given her last summer. She hated those sunglasses, never wore them once in London, but she needed to hide the dark circles that surrounded her eyes from her first sleepless night. For the first time in her life she wished she was allowed to wear makeup. Not even her father would allow it, even though most of the girls she knew wore it by now. Natasha had taken her frizzy red hair and made it presentable with elaborate braids before she retired the night before. She could not see anything that John could nitpick, but knowing him he would find something. 

He always found something.

She walked down the quiet hallway, grazing her left hand on the wall, wondering if anyone was actually awake yet. Her father never woke before noon, so most of the help did not begin work until late morning. She was not quite in the mood for food, so it didn’t matter if the cooks were there yet. Most of the time breakfast fare was mimosas or screwdrivers anyway. She had been allowed them for breakfast for as long as she could remember here. 

She just wished for a bit of company.

She walked into the sun room. The pool boys were hard at work. John and his secretary were sitting together on the patio.  _ Very close together _ , Amelia thought, as she sat down and made herself a screwdriver. She sipped at her drink, keeping an eye on him. She always had wondered if there was more than just a working relationship between the two of them, and now as he hadn’t even noticed her arrival, she would be able to know for certain. 

Natasha placed a full plate of food before her. “Keep your nose clean, Amelia. You’re here for your father, not Mr. Reid. Don’t make things more complicated,” was the gentle reminder. Amelia glared at the plate, wondering why things had to be so fucking complex here. A web of lies, deceit, and ‘love’.

She bit into her toast harder than needed, gnashing her teeth together. 

“Should you really eat all that, darling? You’re looking a little chubby this year. I thought teenage girls gave a damn about their appearance?”

Amelia fought the urge to throw the plate at him. She slowly lifted her gaze, glad she bit the bullet and wore the sunglasses. She did not want to deal with a lecture on her attitude before her first drink was finished. “I had only planned on eating the toast, thank you.”

Her Papa rolled his eyes at her. “Anyways, little Taupin will be by soon to take you away for the day. From what I’ve seen in your closet, your wardrobe needs to be sorted if you plan to stay as long as your mum apparently thinks you are. Your father will be spending the day at the studio working on his album. We hadn’t planned on you arriving until Monday, you see, and we are both oh so heartbroken we are missing this day with you and all that, of course.”

“Sure. Both of you,” Amelia snorted, throwing her toast back on her plate.

“Tsk, tsk, Amelia. Of course both of us. You know we both love you to bits and such...”

Amelia poured another drink. She was too sober for this dance.

“I’m not sure how long he will be working today. Today is his last studio day, and he’s barely finished 3 tracks. Feel free to stay with Taupin the night if you want to. Hell, spend the whole summer there. I’m sure he’s missed you as well.”

“I’m here to spend time with my father, Reid,” she said through gritted teeth.

John raised a single eyebrow. “Reid, is it? You best not allow your father to hear you call me that. Such a disrespectful whelp you’ve turned into this year.”

Amelia raised her glass. “And you, a condescending prick like normal. Glad we understand each other."

John shook his head. “One day you will see, Amelia. One day you will see,” he muttered, before turning quickly and walking into the house

As she watched him walk into the house, she could only wonder what she could see that she hadn’t already…

  
  


************

  
  


“Do you ever wonder what Dad sees in that prick,” Amelia asked, as they walked into yet another shop in the mall. Amelia was feeling overwhelmed by the sheer number of stores Bernie and she had ducked into. John had given them a bloody _ list _ of things she ‘needed’. Bernie had already fished it from the trash twice, and  _ he might need to fish it out again if we have to go anywhere after this shop… _ , Amelia thought darkly, following him to the back of the store to the juniors department once again.

“What do you mean, Amelia?,” Bernie asked, his tone as guarded as it always was when speaking of her father and stepfather relationship. “You really shouldn’t call him names, love. Your father loves him, and he loves your father.”

Amelia snorted, flipping through the clothing racks with more force than probably necessary. “If he loved dad that much would he be accepting blow jobs at the pool by his secretary?”

Bernie shook his head. “Their relationship is different, yes, but that does not mean the love is not there, love. It would be best if you didn’t look into things just yet, alright? Besides, you used to idolize your Papa. What happened?”

She shrugged, shoving a lettered tee back on the rack. “Life happened, Uncle Bernie. Now what else is on that fucking list so we can finally bloody finish, eh?”

Bernie laughed. “I know, darling. This day is bloody ridiculous, innit? There is only some jumpers and trainers left. We have the dungarees and tees and dresses already. So I guess find 2 jumpers, then we’ll go to the shoe store, then we’ll grab dinner and a show. Reid said he would phone when they were finishing up.”

Amelia sighed. “Is my dad… Alright?,” she asked.

Bernie’s furrowed his eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t he be, love?”

“He just seems… different is all.”

Bernie sighed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “He has a lot of demons, love. I’ve been his best mate for almost twenty years, and there are times in which he is doing great, and others in which I wonder if he will still be alive by the end of the week. Everyone with the amount of fame he deals with daily, and the ones who love them, deal with it daily. He copes the best he can.”

“That’s not an answer, Uncle Bernie.”

"It' s the best I’ve got,” he said with a one armed shrug. “Now it says you should look for green jumpers, to bring out your eyes...”

So they left the store with blue jumpers, just because they could.


	4. Father of the fucking year...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elton gets lost in his head.

“I just want to pop in and say hello, Sir. I haven’t seen her all day!,” Elton almost whined, folding his arms across the front of his brown fur coat. He hadn’t bothered taking it, nor his bowler cap or sunglasses, off yet since they seemed to have been arguing steadily since they left the recording studio. Elton wasn’t sure if he would end up at the pub before too much longer... “I shan’t be long. I know she’s probably asleep already, but…”

“Exactly, pet! Exactly why you should  _ not _ pop in and say hello,” John replied, fighting the urge to stomp his foot like a toddler. “She is jetlagged, she is hurt, and spent most of today shopping, which unlike for you, is not something in which normal people enjoy. Just let her fucking sleep tonight, darling. You’ll see her tomorrow morning! Hell, I’ll even wake you up earlier so you can see her before we leave to finish,” John finished, folding his own arms across his suit. He couldn’t help his face softening when he saw just how defeated Elton looked. He stepped forward, taking him in his arms. “She is here all summer, love. I had a… lovely... conversation with Lacey whilst you were recording. You will have ample opportunity to spend time with her, darling. Before you start going down the rabbit trail your brain loves to do, you are a good father, and your relationship with her is strong. Just... Be good tonight for me please and let’s head to bed so you can wake up early enough to see her, alright? I am knackered and don’t feel like fighting you.”

Elton nodded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes with his fists. “I could use a kip myself. Those songs… They’re great, but Jesus, I’m sore from the floor last night.”

“Do you need your pills, love?,” John asked, caressing Elton’s cheek with his hand. Elton shook his head. “Alright, if you do, wake me, darling. I had Natasha draw you a hot bath, so go relax for a little bit. I’ll leave two lines out for you and a bit of a drink, then get into bed with me tonight. Wake me if I’ve already fallen asleep, though. I want to make sure you’re alright.”

“Thank you, Sir, for everything.”

John smiled at him before kissing his forehead. “Anything for you, My pet,” John said simply, helping Elton shuck off his coat. They kissed gently, lovingly, Elton moaning into the kiss. John loved how pliant he made this man even after all these years. “Go relax in the tub, love. You deserve it.”

“Come with?,” Elton asked, a slight smile on his face, his hands grasping John’s tightly. He really didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts.

John shook his head, smiling reassuringly at him. “Not this time, love. I am simply too tired this evening. I would rather just go to sleep. Tomorrow, though, I promise.”

Elton bit his lip in disappointment, but nodded all the same. It wasn’t the first time either of them had had to beg off due to long days, and wouldn’t be the last as they continued to grow older. “You aren’t cross?”

“Of course not, love. I know you are overwrought this evening. So much going on in that pretty little head of yours. Take a soak, calm your thoughts, and come to bed with me. Wake me when you get under the covers so I know you’re alright, okay?”

Elton nodded, kissing him again. “Thank you, Sir. Good night,” he said instead of begging, which he was quite proud of himself for, indeed, before heading to their adjoining bathroom.

He sunk into the water, smiling at the calming scent of his lavender bubble bath and epsom salts, and the cup of chamomile tea Natasha had left beside the tub. He took the cuppa in his hand, sipping at it slowly, allowing himself to finally think about his daughter’s arrival, and cursing himself for being too intoxicated and then too distracted to do so earlier.

_ Father of the fucking year, me, _ Elton thought, groaning softly.

She didn’t look well. She was much too pale to start, though he knew from experience the dreary Pinner would do that for even the happiest lads and lasses. He hoped that the California sun would help in that. (It did both him and John. That was one of the main reasons why they moved here in the first place. And Bernie, but mostly for their health). She had gained weight since his visit when he was on tour, but she still looked gaunt. Her mum was not feeding her enough, which surprised him considering the allotted child support John said had gone up this past year. Natasha had also told him in passing that she had found the bruise coverup he had used in her room, which didn’t make sense because who would be bruising Amelia to need so much of it, and why hide them from her own father and stepfather if she had them?

Well, it wasn’t like they made themselves emotionally available to her that often. They were both selfish bastards, even to each other.

He forgot to bring it to John’s attention what he heard from Natasha that morning, being so busy with recording ‘Breaking Hearts’ with the band, and then the argument thereafter. He hoped Bernie got into her head a little bit while they were out and could direct him, having daughters of his own he saw on a daily basis.

He was much better at that shite than he was, the absentee sperm donor he was mostly was. He had no idea why she even really wanted him around. He didn’t even want to be around himself...

He sunk into the bath fully. He was good at a lot of things, he reasoned, picking the razor blade off the ledge. Royally fucking everything he touched up being the first. 


	5. The Other Side of Dysfunctional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The absurdity of it all just might end up breaking Amelia apart.

To say Amelia was surprised when her Dad plopped himself at the table in the sunroom across from her before nine in the morning would be an understatement. He looked truly wretched. He always did when he woke before noon. He wore an open blue silk dressing gown, a pearl necklace, and a pair of gold hotpants, which also astonished her. He was normally much more… covered… when around her. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw his bare chest or his legs, and frowned at the thin white scars that criss crossed over both his chest and stomach. 

She watched as the sleeves of the gown slip past his wrists, white gauze slightly reddened from what could only be blood wrapped around them, as he placed his own stupid bejeweled sunglasses on the table. He massaged his temples with a pitiful groan. 

Amelia almost choked on her toast with both the confusion and concern warring within her. 

“Drink... please... little... love? Rough night,” her Dad somehow managed to croak out, which considering the time of morning she was simply astounded once more that he could almost make full sentences. She passed her own over across the table with trembling hands. “Thank... you,” he ground out, before tossing back the screwdriver in a matter of seconds. “Another… Please.”

Amelia set out to make him another drink when the door to the sunroom opened once more. “Good morning, Amelia,” her Papa said in his usual all business-tone, before sitting beside her Dad. She watched him run his fingers over his forehead and frowned deeply. “You’re burning up, love,” he murmured quietly, ghosting his fingers down his red cheeks. He held up his hand to Amelia before she set her Dad’s drink in front of him. “You can have that one, darling. Your father will not be having another just yet. Not until he sees our doctor.”

Amelia shrugged before sitting down again. The whole situation was much more surreal than she expected and was thankful for the chance to have actually drink her second drink that morning without any repercussions. They were always afraid she’d turn into a mini-alcoholic, so much like her Dad that she was, if they didn’t regulate it.

Not that it was regulated back home, but they didn’t much seem to care what happened across the pond.

“I’m fine, Sir, please don’t take my drink away,” her Dad whispered (begged), placing his sunglasses back on his face. He forced a simile of what Amelia called his ‘stage grin’ on his face and his laugh was faker than anything she had ever heard in her life. “Just wasn’t expecting so much sun so early. Quite rude of it if you ask me. Nothing so heinous should be around before noon.”

“You know better than to lie to me, pet,” her Papa hissed, annoyed, though it was obvious in his blue eyes he was more concerned than vexed as he began to rub Elton’s shoulders.

Amelia shook her head. “Just what the  _ fuck _ is going on here, then? Am I in the bloody literal twilight zone?”

“Language, Amelia,” John scolded mildly, still rubbing circles on her Dad’s back, smiling slightly as he leaned back into the touch with an audible moan.

Amelia groaned.  _ Of all things this morning…  _ Language _ is what Papa decides to speak of, _ she thought, bringing her straw to her mouth. She changed the subject. “Are you going to the studio today? Is that why you’re up so early, Daddy?,” she asked instead, knowing she would never get a direct answer from either of them about their behavior. She never did.

“No, darling. Taking today off to recoop and all that...,” Elton somehow managed ground out if the look of pain on his face somewhat receding as John continued his massage was any indication. “Thought we’d spend the day with you, if you like?”

Amelia gaped.  _ The second full day here and they actually already remember I exist? _ She shut her mouth abruptly at the hurt look on her Dad’s face. She really needed to remember not to look so surprised when he acted just like her friends fathers, as few and far between as it was, wanting to be in her life. He couldn’t help the separate lives they lived, after all, kilometers upon kilometers away from each other. “Sounds great, Daddy, Papa!” 

And was it her imagination, or did John’s eyes light up just as much as her dad’s when she added him into the mix? She shook her head. She’d never understand these two… And part of her was gladdened by that fact. They were just plain weird too often. “Should we invite Uncle Bernie?”

“No!,” Elton shouted, quickly sitting up straight in the chair. “I… I mean, no darling, just the three of us is good, yes?,” Elton asked with a chuckle, visibly panicking at the thought of _Uncle_ _Bernie_ for some reason which confused her, as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He turned to John with wide eyes. “Whatdya think, John? Just us?”

John nodded. “Little Taupin got you to himself yesterday, love. Today will be just us. Whatever you want to do, after our doctor checks out your father, of course.” Elton opened his mouth to object. “He’s on his way now, pet, no arguing.”

“Are you ill, Daddy?”  _ That could explain some of what’s happening, at least... _

Elton shrugged. “Rough night is all, little love. Can I at least have a cup of coffee, John? I need something in my hands before…”

John nodded, getting to his feet. He kissed the top of Elton’s head. “Good boy, pet, being honest about what you need right now. I’ll be right back with a cup for both of us. And you, Amelia?”

“I’d love one, to be honest,” she said, still perplexed at every single fucking exchange that’s happened so far… And hating it more as each minute passed. “Will I be able to know what’s happened at any point?”

Elton shook his head. “Don’t fret over it, darling. Nothing we haven’t dealt with before. I’m coming with, John,” Elton said, jumping to his feet before falling back down in the chair and grabbing his head with a hiss of pain.

John snorted. “Isn’t that the truth... Stay, pet. Amelia, make sure he doesn’t have any liquor. I’ll be right back, darlings.”

  
  


***********************

  
  


Absurd. That was the only word Amelia could use to describe the day she had had. She listened outside their bedroom when the doctor finally arrived at half past noon. She was horrified to learn her Dad had cut his wrists in the bath the night before whilst her Papa slept soundly in the next room. His thoughts had spiraled and before he knew it, the razor was in his hand and the water was mixed with blood, as he told it. When her Papa had awoken and found the other side of their bed cold, he went to check in on him. 

He found her Dad half-alive in the bathtub and had bundled him up and brought him to the hospital to get the wounds checked.

That was why her Dad had been awake at 9 in the morning, which sadly made more sense... They had just gotten back home, no doubt after spending quite a bit of money to even be released after being stitched up and not put in a bloody asylum or something.

A friend back home had cut herself and she was put in the hospital for weeks… Must be nice to have such pull to sweep it under the rug as they were able.

She heard her Papa’s shaky voice as he explained the situation to the old doctor, and she felt a bit of the iciness her heart held for him begin to thaw. Perhaps what her Uncle Bernie had told her was correct and he truly  _ did _ love him in his own way. She shook her head, rushing back to the sunroom lest she be caught eavesdropping, and poured herself another drink.

No wonder her Dad spent so much time intoxicated. It was much more difficult to think clearly when inebriated.

She understood now why her Dad was so adamant in not reaching out to Uncle Bernie, even if she wished she had his steady presence by her side as she swam in the pool and knew now  _ why _ neither he Dad or Papa would be joining her, even if their lame ‘we’re too old to keep up, darling’s’ each time she swam to the side of the pool might have fooled her before learning the truth. 

At least they were together in this, whether they knew she knew what had happened, or not. She just needed to remind herself that her dad was still alive, it wasn’t an actual suicide attempt apparently after all, and he was loved.

  
  


************************

"I know what happened," Amelia said as nonchalantly as she could, shortly after her Dad retired for the evening. She and her Papa were sitting in the dining room still, both frowning at her Dad's still full plate he had left behind. She flinched when he narrowed his eyes towards her. She sighed deeply. "Yes, I listened at the door. Yes, I know I'm in trouble. But I was worried and neither of you would tell me what had happened to him."

"You're grounded. Not the best way to start your summer, is it? Your mother may allow you to spy, but I know for certain we have never allowed it, for reasons such as these," John rebuked her, though she could tell his heart was not in it this time, not with the almost suffocating worry he must be feeling at this time for his partner. “How much did you hear?”

“Everything, really,” Amelia replied honestly, setting her fork down beside her plate. “Neither of you seemed keen to tell me anything, and I was drowning in my concern and the absurdity of the morning. I needed to know…”

John shook his head. “You ‘needed’ to know none of this, love.” Amelia only shrugged. “As I’m certain you overheard, it was not a suicide attempt. It was an ‘in over his head’ issue that happens sometimes when we aren’t careful. There is a reason our relationship is as it is. I didn’t see it coming this time. I paid more attention to the business instead of the man. I apologize, Amelia.”

Amelia shook her head. “You have no reason to apologize, least of all to me. These things happen. All we can do is move on.”

John smiled gently. “When did you get so wise, little one?”

“I had a mate who attempted suicide. She was hospitalized and I beat myself up over it for weeks. My guidance counselor said that just because we miss things about people we care about doesn’t mean it is our responsibility. Miss Freeman reminded me of it when Eliza was released and then immediately upon going home she finished the deed…” Amelia stood up abruptly, needing to be alone. “But you would already know that if one of you deigned to contact me when I’m not here, wouldn’tcha? I don’t know why I bother pretending either of you actually care for me. No one else does.”

She ignored her Papa’s calls as she ran up to her room and slammed and locked her bedroom door. 


	6. Only Human

John chuckled when Elton rolled into his arms the moment he pulled the duvet back over both of them. He held his love close, allowing Elton to inhale his scent as he buried his face into John’s bare chest. John kissed the top of Elton’s head, holding the trembling man tighter, running his fingers up and down his back. “I believe we need to discuss how we are handling Amelia whilst she is with her Mum, and make some adjustments, pet,” he murmured, staring at the ceiling, the conversation he had just had with her fresh in his mind.

Elton looked up at him, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “Why?,” he asked, his voice slurred and shaky from both sleepiness and the sleep medication the doctor had prescribed him. Elton couldn’t help but smile slightly. “I thought we were never going to discuss it ever again after the last heated row. That’s what you said, at least.”

John shrugged. “Yes, well, things change as time goes on, don’t they, love? That row was at least seven years ago now.”

“Three, actually,” Elton said simply, adjusting himself when John moved to lay on his back so his head was resting above John’s heart. The steady beat always calmed him. “Is she alright? Please tell me she’s alright, Sir?”

“Shhh, love,” John cooed. “She’s fine right now. She’s finally asleep. I had a nice discussion with her before retiring myself. She’s had it rough this past year. Rougher than we realized. I think we need to be the ones to change it, because no lass deserves what she’s been through, as it seems Lacey won’t be. Would you be willing to try for me?” Elton nodded quickly, tears prickling his eyes. John carded his fingers through Elton’s hair, soothing him before the tears turned to anything more. “Good boy, pet. Before you begin the rabbit trail your mind wants to go down, nothing of this is your fault. We will discuss it more in the morning, though. I am knackered and you are half asleep right now. So don’t worry, pet. I have this under control, alright?”

Elton nodded, his eyes falling easily closed under John’s caresses. John stayed awake much longer, ensuring his love was in a deep enough sleep to make it through the night, while considering their options going forward. It would take time, it would take care, but John thought together, they could figure it out.

 _Who would have thought I’d ever have a family before business mentality? Must be getting soft in my old age,_ he thought, closing his eyes. He allowed Elton’s soft snores to lull him to sleep. _Won’t my mum be happy to see that I can be human, when I want to be. Maybe I should contact her tomorrow..._

  
  


***********************

  
  


Bernie was surprised to receive the phone call that morning from John Reid of all people, inviting him to spend the day with their family. He asked that it be only him this time, and perhaps next time he could bring his own family with him. Reid never once asked after Bernie’s family in all the years he had been in a relationship with Elton, yet he asked after them before the phone call concluded.

And so help him, Bernie truly thought the man was sincere.

Heather asked him numerous times what the bloody fuck was wrong with him after Bernie hung up the phone. He was certain he looked a fright, staring blankly into space wondering just what dimension he awoke in that morning. He blinked to bring the room back into focus. “Reid asked me to come spend the afternoon with them,” he said simply.

The fact Heather’s mouth dropped open in surprise showed Bernie was not wrong in his astonishment.

“And he also said next time to bring you and the girls. Maybe have a bloody pool party or some tosh...”

“Are you sure that was John on the phone, then, babe?,” she asked, collapsing beside him on the sofa. Bernie only nodded. “Well, then, you best get ready to go and find out what happened to make such a change, eh?”

Bernie nodded quickly. “Right… Right…”

Bernie couldn’t hold back his fear that something terrible had happened to cause such a change in the man who barely gave Bernie the time of day as he made the three hour trek from his ranch to their manor house in his beat up pickup truck. He didn’t know if it was Elton, Amelia, or hell… Maybe even Reid himself. By the time he made it to the manor he was in a right state…

There was a reason why he and Elton had always gotten each other so well.

Being let in by Natasha was normal enough. Being led out to the pool was even more normal on such hot days like they’ve been having this summer. Seeing Amelia swimming and Elton and Reid enjoying drinks at one of the plastic tables, smiling and laughing with each other, made his heart calm just a bit.

Just a bit, however.

“Uncle Bernie!,” Amelia exclaimed when she finally lifted her head out of the water. He laughed when she swam to the ladder and ran to him, lifting her into his arms and swinging her around like he did his own girls, not caring how wet he got. “What’re you doing here?”

“Your Papa invited me,” Bernie said simply, setting her gently back on her feet.

“Wow,” Amelia whispered, accepting the towel Natasha handed her. She wrapped it around her waist. “I think I woke up in another dimension yesterday, Uncle Bernie. Nothing is making sense, and I hate it when things don’t make sense,” she grumbled quietly.

 _Don’t I get it, little love,_ Bernie thought, nodding towards Elton and John as they beckoned him over. “I’m going to say hi to your fathers now, darling.” Amelia only nodded, making her way into the house. 

And didn’t he wish he could join her?

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his denims and pasted a smile on his face. “I’m here,” he said weakly, sitting across from them. “Is everything alright here?”

Elton answering grin was just as weak. Bernie noticed the empty cups that surrounded him, as well as the powder in his nostrils, and wondered just why Reid allowed him so many of his vices at once. “Of course it isn’t, Bernie. This is my family we are speaking of, innit?”

“I think I need a beer before we begin.”

“Of course, Taupin. I’ll get you one,” John replied, getting to his feet quickly. “We have much to discuss.”

“That sounds promising,” Bernie muttered, leaning back in his chair and suddenly wishing he had never gotten out of bed that morning.

*********************

“So you will be petitioning for custody then?,” Bernie asked as he popped open the third beer Reid had so considerately set in front of him. They were correct when they stated this conversation would be difficult for him, and he couldn’t imagine how Reid felt when he heard all the information first hand. He was rather surprised when they both shook their heads negatively. He took a few long pulls from the bottle before asking, “Why not?,” because really, leaving her in such a bad situation was just not happening, thank you very much...

“You know Elton would never be granted custody, his addictions notwithstanding. He is on the road too much for a judge to even consider giving him the time of day… We were thinking… Well… Perhaps you would be amicable to doing so? You are Amelia’s godfather after all,” Reid finally ground out. Bernie knew how difficult it was for Reid to ask for anything, and if it wasn’t for the seriousness of the situation before them, he’d certainly be mocking him.

But Bernie knew the last gulp he took of his beer was a mistake long before he spit it all over Elton’s face, who sputtered comically at being splashed, when he finally understood the question. “Sorry, mate… So sorry but… You want ME to petition for custody?”

Elton nodded, smiling brightly at him even as he patted his face with a napkin. “Of course, Bernie. You’re perfect, aren’t you? I wouldn’t trust anyone else to care about her well-being. When we are here, obviously she will stay with us. But she needs a stable environment, as much as I want to just bundle her up and take her on the road with us, it isn’t a suitable environment for a teenager, as I’m sure you recall.”

Bernie nodded. “That I certainly do… Some of the things we did… I don’t know how we’re still alive, really, to tell all the stories. My girls don’t believe half of what I tell them...” Bernie looked to Reid. “Have you already spoken with Jeremy?”

He nodded. “I spoke with him before calling you over. He is getting the necessary documents ready. I just needed your acceptance before they were filed. She won’t be returning to London in any case, but Elton would rather have someone we knew care for her, rather than a stranger.”

“Please, Bernie?,” Elton asked. “I’m willing to beg if I need to.”

Bernie nodded slowly. “I already have two teenage girls at home, what’s one more, I suppose?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about child custody battles, never having children myself, but in this one it will be nice and easy...


	7. Late Night Talks

Amelia was awoken from a rather brilliant dream by a tentative knock on the door. She looked towards the alarm clock on her bedside table and blinked. It was just after midnight. She slowly sat up, stretching her arms above her head, blinking as another knock rang out. “Coming,” she said, her voice slurred, cursing the locked door with every step.  _ What the fuck, whichever one you are... _

Her Dad stood at the threshold with a pizza and a bottle of gin.

Amelia found herself blinking again, her confusion now laced with suspicion as he made his way into her room. He set the pizza down on the bed and then pulled two tumblers out of the pockets of his dressing gown. “Hungry, darling? You never made it down to dinner. I got your favorite. Or at least, what used to be your favorite. Pepperoni and pineapple. I hope you still like it. If you don’t, it’s alright. I only…”

“Daddy,” she interrupted, walking towards him, a smile on her face. She wrapped him in a tight hug. “Thank you.”

He hugged her back even tighter. “You’re welcome, lovey. Come, let’s eat and gossip. Your papa is sound asleep and won’t even be missing me anytime soon, so we have as much time as can be.”

Amelia giggled, collapsing on the bed and opening the box. “What do you want to gossip about, Dad?”

Elton beamed. “Did I tell you Bernie is actually getting hitched? After 15 years together and three children, he actually asked Heather to marry him. I thought after his last failed marriage he’d never get hitched again, but I reckon I was wrong. Crazy, innit?”

“Wow! That’s great! I love Uncle Bernie and Aunt Heather, and am so pleased for them!,” Amelia exclaimed, beaming as she took a piece from the box in front of her. “When is the wedding?”

“Next weekend. We will be going shopping this weekend for our outfits, of course. I was thinking we will get you a sea green gown. It would be smashing with your complexion. What do you think? I’m the best man, and quite chuffed o’ course, and I promised Bernie I wouldn’t dip at all before the wedding, so that’s going to be tough, but worth it I suppose…”

_ How much have you dipped before coming in here?, _ Amelia wondered, watching him pour a few fingers of gin each tumbler as he continued to speak just as rapidly as before. She took the glass when he handed it to her, but had no intention of drinking it. She knew he wouldn’t notice one way or the other as he continued to change the subject over and over until her tired mind gave up trying to follow.

Something was going on, and she wished she knew what it was.

“Wait? THREE children? I thought it was just Charley and Norma?,” Amelia finally interrupted, unable to wait any longer.

If her Dad was beaming before, this smile was blinding. “They are expecting a boy at the end of November! We didn’t tell you?” Amelia shook her head. “The best part? He thinks he can talk Heather into naming me Godfather if I start weaning off some of the substances. John is going to help me, because I really REALLY want to be worthy. It’s just so hard.”

Amelia smiled slightly at her Dad’s exaggerated pout. “You are worthy, Daddy. You are worthy of the world and then some,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “One day you’ll see it.”

As he changed the subject once again after a beat of silence, Amelia felt her eyes begin to close despite her best attempts to stop them. It was now close to one am, a perfectly reasonable time to sleep, her body decided. She was lulled to sleep by the mostly one sided conversation that seemed aimed more to keep himself occupied than to spend time with her, grateful as she was for it in any case.

Because it was times like these she could almost forget her worry for him.


	8. Late Night Fix

Elton tucked the duvet over Amelia’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head gently. He picked up the only partially eaten box of pizza, (not having been hungry himself and it  _ was _ two o’clock in the fucking morning…), and the mostly empty bottle of gin from the bedside table and smiled down at her. He really did love his daughter, and did try to ensure she felt that love just a small bit when she was with them, even if he was, admittedly, a mostly absent parent.

He wished to change that with his whole heart.

He whistled a melody that had been stuck in his head for days as he made his way towards the door. He could see the chords written on the sheet now as he whistled, and he could almost feel his fingers pressing just the right keys to bring the melody to life. He grinned, loving these moments of random inspiration. Always in the middle of the night, they were. 

So lost in his thoughts he didn’t even notice John standing in the doorway of the room, his arms folded across his bare chest, his eyes narrowing at him, until the box and bottle was taken from his hands.

Elton opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. Seeing the look in John’s eye was enough to motivate him to stay both silent and his fleeting feeling of joy to dissipate more quickly than usual. 

He banged his fist on his temple to clear his mind before the voices got the better of him, then tried to speak. “Sir, I…”

John shook his head. “Not here, pet. Go to our rooms. I will put this away and be there shortly,” he interrupted, his voice so stern and commanding Elton felt his knees weaken. “You know what I expect when I get there, pet. Don’t displease me any more.”

“Yes, Sir,” Elton whispered, hanging his head and shoving his hands in the pockets of his dressing gown. He hated it when John was upset with him, but he hated how much it thrilled him even more. It had been a long while since John had had to use that tone with him, and as much as he hated it, he missed it even more.

He had hoped the late night pizza party would have been enough to draw it out.

He knelt on the floor of their bedroom with his arms folded behind his back, his stomach flipping with both anxiety and excitement. It seemed like hours before John rejoined him, though Elton knew it was mere minutes. He chanced a look at John’s face when he entered the bedroom, smirking slightly at the heedy desire that almost radiated from his eyes. 

They both needed this more than he realized.

The fact Elton was never ever quiet in play... Nor the fact John liked to use such force on him that it could sometimes be heard all the way in the backyard… Amelia being just two doors down didn’t even register to either of them before they began their fun. 

They really were selfish bastards, in need of their fix…


	9. Run Away

Amelia wasn’t sure what woke her, at first. She lay in her bed, blinking at the ceiling as her eyes acclimating to the dark room. She turned over in bed and blinked once again at the alarm clock. It was just after four am. She didn’t even remember falling asleep.

She heard music playing down the hall. She smiled slightly as Queen serenaded her. She loved Queen, and she loved the lads who comprised the band. That was one thing she will always be thankful for in terms of her Papa. The girls at school were always so jealous when she told them about all the celebrities she was able to meet during her summer visits.

She frowned when she heard a loud  _ crack _ . She groaned, putting her head under her pillow. It had been years since she heard that noise. She remembered when she was just ten years old, she had ran into their bedroom and placed herself between her fathers and her Papa had not been able to stop the whip before it hit her. She had sobbed from the pain and confusion as to why he would be hurting her Daddy like that.

It had taken until this year for them to allow more than a week long visit.

She sat up in bed and swung her legs over the side. She slipped her slippers onto her feet and tied her dressing gown around her. She stomped down the hallway and slammed open their door.

Her Dad was tied down to the bed, which didn’t surprise her. She had seen worse before. His skin was red and welted, which also didn’t surprise her. They both had twin looks of shock on their faces, in which she rolled her eyes at.  _ Really? Did you forget I am just down the hall?, _ she grumbled to herself, folding her arms across her chest and glared at the both of them. “Some of us are trying to sleep, thanks. Keep your perversion to yourself until I have left, please. Love you both, of course, and all that, but seriously? I’m not in the mood and will be out of your hair shortly so you can continue this madness,” she said, slamming the door shut behind her.

She pulled her rucksack down from the closet and began to stuff all that she brought with her into it. She was tired of being forgotten by those who were supposed to love her. She was tired of being an interloper in people’s lives. She was tired of seeing and hearing things that no fourteen year old girl should be privy to. 

She was tired of her life.

She threw on her worn jeans and loose t-shirt and slipped her trainers onto her feet. She threw her rucksack over her shoulder and slammed her bedroom door shut. She heard her Papa calling out to her as she walked to the front door, but didn’t bother to stop. 

She had no plan as to where she was going, but anywhere was better than here at the moment.

  
  


*************************

  
  


She leaned against the wall at the bus terminal, her phone in her hand. She had bought a ticket for the next bus out of state, which happened to be Oklahoma. She knew nothing about Oklahoma, only that it was a pretty far ride. Messages from her Papa, her Dad, and even Uncle Bernie continued to pop up, and she just continued to ignore them. She would make her way to Oklahoma, find a place to lay her head for a bit, then head back to Pinner when her mother returned.

It wasn’t the best plan, but it was what she had at the moment.

She looked up when the door to the terminal opened and rolled her eyes. Uncle Bernie strode towards her in mismatched clothes and his hair and glasses askew. He collapsed onto the chair beside her with a groan. “You found me,” she said simply, folding her arms across her chest.

“Finally,” Bernie agreed with a nod. “I’ve looked almost everywhere you would frequent before taking a chance here.” Amelia nodded, looking back down at her phone. “Where are you off to, then?”

“Oklahoma, it seems,” she replied nonchalantly, swiping through her apps.

“Oklahoma?,” Bernie asked, confusion evident on his face and in his voice. “Why bloody Oklahoma?”

Amelia shrugged. “Well, it’s not here, first off. Second, it was the first bus out of here. Third, it was either get on a bus out of this madness or kill myself, and the latter seemed a bit too messy, even for me.”

Bernie snorted. “Well, thank God you felt it would be too ‘messy’, because I’d miss ya kid. Why don’t you come back to my house for tonight and get some rest. From what I hear you didn’t get much sleep. We can discuss options that aren’t Okla-bloody-homa when you wake up.”

“You promise I’ll be going to your house, and not back to  _ them, _ right?”

Bernie almost flinched at the venom in her voice when speaking of John and Elton. “Yes, lass, we will be going to my ranch. I won’t bring you back to their manor unless you ask me to, I swear it.”

Amelia looked down at her bus ticket and sighed. “I guess it’s a better plan than I have at the moment,” she muttered, getting to her feet. She threw her rucksack over her shoulder once again and ran her fingers through her hair. “Just… I don’t want to see or talk to them yet, Uncle Bernie.”

Bernie wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Then you won’t, Amelia,” he said simply.

Amelia smiled.


	10. A New Beginning

Ameila had never been like the other girls in her class. She only wore makeup when her bruises were too dark to explain away. She bit her fingernails. She always wore her hair up in a messy bun rather than style the curly mess before school. Her clothes never fit right from the thrift shops, too big or too small, never the right size. She always knew she was different.

But how different had never really settled into her brain until she was sat at a chair and her ‘cousins’ did a makeover on her.

She gazed at her reflection, her head tilted to the side, disbelieving that it was actually her. Her curls were soft and framed her face perfectly. The grey eye shadow brought out the green specs in her eyes. The pink lipstick made her lips look fuller than she was used to. The dress Charley had lent her actually fit well, much better than any of her clothes bought both in London and on her shopping trip with Uncle Bernie.

She hugged Charley close. “Thank you,” she whispered, fighting back tears. She had never felt so beautiful as she did at that moment, and wanted the feeling to last forever.

“The first step to feeling better is looking better. That’s my motto,” the girl replied with a nod, beaming back at her. “So, you ready for dinner? Mom has been cooking rather early lately. She’s always so hungry! I never want to be pregnant if that’s my life. Hungry, angry, sad, and never always in that order!”

Amelia smile turned sad. “I could never bring a child into the world with the life I’ve had so far.”

Charley frowned, caressing her cheek gently. “Oh, sweetheart, you’d be the best mom because you know what  _ not _ to do. Surely you know that?”

“Didn’t help my Dad much, did it?,” she replied darkly, running her fingers through her hair. She forced a smile on her face. “But food sounds good. Let’s go get our grub on, and all that jazz.”

Charley laughed. “I think we are having a roast of some sort. Dad put it in the crockpot this morning then went to the music room. He’s been hard at work, so I suppose your Dad is ready to release an album again.”

Amelia frowned. “Is he? He’s not even finished with the one he’s working on now?”

Charley shrugged. “Then I don’t know. Maybe he’s working on one for himself? He has a good enough voice to make it, though I may be biased,” she said, taking Amelia’s hand in her own.

Amelia nodded. “Uncle Bernie is very talented. It’s amazing how far he has stayed out of the limelight considering who he works with…” Amelia shook her head. “As much as I don’t want to talk about him, I keep bringing him up. He’s been ringing my phone nonstop. I finally had to turn it off. I told Uncle Bernie to tell him I was here, but ask him not to come… Here…” 

She groaned. Because this was her luck. She saw both of her father’s sitting at the kitchen table with Bernie sat between them. “I told you to tell them I don’t want to see them!,” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air in frustration.

Bernie jumped to his feet. “I did. You can’t honestly believe your Dad would listen to me, Amelia…”

“No, but I could hope,” she muttered, shrugging Charley’s hand from her shoulder. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at the two men. “What excuse do you have for me this time?”

“No excuse, poppet. We were wrong,” Elton replied, sitting forward in his chair and folding his arms in front of him. Amelia blinked. “We were so wrong. We hope you can forgive us.”

“Please sit down, Amelia? Dinner is ready and I’d like to eat,” Heather said, a smile on her face. “You can all discuss this in the other room after dinner, please?”

“Of course, Aunt Heather. I apologize,” Amelia said, taking a seat beside Charley quickly. Charley squeezed her hand. 

_ I’m not leaving you, _ Charley’s eyes said.  _ I’ll be there with you through this madness. Let me in. _

And god help her, Amelia believed her.

  
  


******************

“Charley, go to your room. You don’t need to be here for this conversation.”

Charley plopped herself between Bernie and Amelia. “Actually, I do, Dad. I promised her I would be,” she said simply, taking Amelia’s hand again. “Just like when Uncle Elton had his talks with his mom you were there, and you can’t tell me differently, because you have both said that’s what cemented your friendship: United front against the old hag. Amelia’s my best friend, and I will always be there for her, thanks.”

“I am not an old hag,” Elton muttered, folding his arms across his chest and pouting. “And I’m nothing like  _ her _ either.”

Amelia and Bernie snorted.

“Anyways,” John said rather loudly. “We got a letter today from our lawyer, and came over to discuss it with you, if that’s alright, Amelia?” Amelia nodded uncertainly. “We have been discussing options for when the summer comes to a close, and think it’s best to get your opinion before we move forward. Our lawyer has stated it is an open and shut case, but it all depends on you.”

“Get on with it then.”

“Watch your tone, Amelia. We might understand why you chose to run, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t in trouble for doing so already, considering you were already grounded to begin with,” John pointed out, narrowing his eyes at her. “Would you like to stay here with your Uncle Bernie and Aunt Heather, and with us when we are home, rather than returning to your mother’s home?”

Amelia tilted her head to the side, confusion almost overwhelming her. “What?”

“After our… discussion… that night, I started petitioning for your removal from your mother’s ‘care’. She is willing to concede custody to Bernie and Heather and will never contact you again if you agree to this course of action. You’re father’s work brings him out of the country too often for us to have complete custody of you legally, but Bernie and Heather have agreed to care for you whilst we are unable to. You can stay with us whenever you like when we are in town, though. What do you think?”

Amelia looked at John, her eyes narrowing. “How much money did it take for her to agree?”

“Amelia, that’s…,” Bernie began.

“Three grand,” John interrupted, knowing his stepdaughter well enough to know she needed to hear this. “Six grand will be deposited directly into her account once the request is accepted, however. You are worth much more than that to us.”

Amelia snorted. “At least I’m worth more than I thought to her. Alright, yes, this sounds like a good plan. Thank you for coming to me before making the decision on my behalf.”

John smiled. “We should have done something sooner, and I apologize for not thinking of this. We understand if you wish to stay here now, but we would love it if you would return home with us. Your birthday is tomorrow and your dad has a present for you. Your grandmums and great grandmum Ivy will be flying in for a small party. Bernie and Heather already said they all will be there also...”

“Please, Amelia? I’m sorry,” Elton cut in, looking so guilty it made Amelia’s heart break. Even the thought of seeing Grandmum Shelia couldn’t make her say no when he looked like that.

Amelia nodded. “Yes, alright. I’ll come home. Just let me get my things.”


	11. d in dysfunctional

The empty bottles continued to accumulate in front of her Dad at an alarming pace, as he continued to smile and nod at whatever disparaging remarks Grandmum Sheila was telling him. Amelia leaned against the edge of the pool, watching with a keen eye as his mood continued to drop considerably.

He had been so happy just a few hours before... Before Grandmum and Granddad and Great Grandmum had arrived. He had showered her with presents, most of which she would never use, but she was grateful for his affection however he chose to show it. 

Because that’s how Elton John showed his love: lavishing gifts on those he cared about. Her birthday was just another excuse to spend his money needlessly.

Charley swam to the edge, sensing her friend’s mood dropping the more she watched the row at the table. “It’s your birthday. You’re supposed to be having fun. Why the long face?”

Amelia nodded towards the patio table. “Looks like Grandmum is being Grandmum again, is all. It’s not even noon and Daddy’s well on his way to passing out. Normal birthday drama, is all,” she said, shrugging. “You would think Papa would put a stop to it by now. He puts a stop to everything else,” she muttered before she could stop herself, and hoped Charley hadn’t heard her.

“God help him, he  _ likes _ Mrs. Farebrother,” Charley said with a theatrical shudder.

Amelia rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. “I like my Grandmum, too, Charley… I just don’t like what she does to my dad every time she visits.” She pulled herself out of the pool and wrapped her towel around her waist. “I’ll be back soon, love.”

Amelia plopped on the chair beside her Dad and took the beer from his hand. She took a long pull from the bottle, smiling around the neck of the bottle at the shock on her Dad’s face. “Thanks, Daddy. Been hoping to get my hand on one for a bit now.”

“Now Amelia,” he began, reaching and missing the bottle by a far bit.

“Seems you’ve drank enough for the lot of us already, eh? And it’s barely noon.”

“Amelia Jane, you shouldn’t be drinking,” Sheila scolded. “It doesn’t matter what your father believes is the correct way to raise you. No girl your age should be as comfortable with liquor as you are. It’s unbecoming.”

Amelia belched loudly, smiling as the men and even her great grandmum around the table began to snicker. “Was that becoming enough for you, Grandmum?,” she asked, the picture of innocence on her face. “T’was just worried about my Daddy and all his consumption since you’ve arrived. Thought you might be as well, so I decided it was time to join  _ my _ bloody party.”

The snickers turned into laughs as Sheila gaped at her. “I started drinking long before Amelia did, Mum, and I turned out alright,” Elton offered, wrapping his arm around Amelia and kissing the top of her head. “Top charting artist of all time and all that. Met the love of my life.” He squeezed John’s hand. “Was lucky enough to be given the best daughter life has to offer.” He squeezed Amelia tighter. “Even with you and Dad in my life, I turned out alright. A few drinks here and there won’t hurt her, nor turn her into a raging alcoholic like myself either. We regulate it well enough here.”

“I don’t know about that,” John muttered, reaching over and snatching the bottle from Amelia’s hand. “Why don’t we all just stop drinking alcohol for a bit. There’s some fresh lemonade on the table, and the cooks should have lunch soon enough. Sheila, darling, help me out here and leave Elton alone for a bit so he can sober up a bit before lunch, alright?”

“Me?” 

Amelia chuckled at the perplexed look on her face.

“You have been rather harsh with the lad, love,” Fred said, getting to his feet. He cleared the table of all the bottles, empty and full, and threw them in the rubbish bin. “You are always a little harsh with him, however, and don’t seem to realize it. It’s our granddaughter’s birthday today. Let’s have a good time, yeah?”

“Very well,” Sheila muttered, accepting the glass of lemonade handed to her by a smiling Amelia. “I’m sorry, darling. Sometimes I don’t realize…”

“We know,” Amelia interrupted.  _ But you should, Grandmum. You really should... _ She stood up, placing her towel back on her seat. “I’m going back to the pool now that the rows are over. I don’t know why none of you are in there. It’s bloody hot out here in the sun.”

She smiled brightly at Charley who still leaned against the edge and dived back in the pool, quite proud of how she handled the situation. “We put the d in dysfunctional around here, don’t we?,” she asked idly, floating on her back. 

She smiled when she heard Charley's affirmation.


	12. Getting Sober

“What will it take for you to get bloody sober?”

Elton flinched. He often wondered that himself, really. He often wondered each morning if that would be the day he was able to just be normal. He stared at his desk, his hands clasped on top of it, unwilling to lift his head and see the look on John’s face. It would be clouded with disappointment, and Elton hated that. 

They had had this argument more times than he could count over their decade long relationship, and each time Elton fretted it would be the last row they ever had. He knew John was pacing the length of his office, focusing on steps rather than a full blown row, as he heard the leather oxfords making their familiar pattern on the hardwood. “I don’t know,” he finally whispered, resigned, broken, before resting his head atop his arms.

“Amelia has followed your footsteps and has become an alcoholic. She admitted to Charley that she drinks from your stock at night before bed and can’t wake up without a screwdriver. She said she started drinking here two years ago, and continued throughout the year. Jim found out she was  _ expelled _ from her school for having alcohol on the grounds, which her mother failed to tell us, when he tried to have her records moved here. You have to see that this is a bloody problem, Elton.”

Elton didn’t respond. He didn’t know how to respond. Yes, it was a fucking problem, but he couldn’t just wave money at it and make it go away for once. He groaned, lifting his head just slightly.

“Do me a favor, John?,” he asked instead. “Just this one.”

“What is it, Elton?”

“Give me a week. I… I can’t deal with this right now. Not on top of seeing my Mum and having so many reminders of my childhood. We can revisit this in one week, I am begging you.”

John sighed. “Very well. Come to bed now, love. It’s late.”

Elton shook his head before burying it back in his arms. “You go on ahead without me. I’m going to journal right now I think. I… Too much is going on inside, and I-I can’t explain…”

John’s face softened. He hated seeing his boyfriend so distressed without any tangible way to fix it himself. “No need to explain, love. Come when you are ready.”

_ I won’t ever be ready to deal with this mess, _ Elton thought, pulling his journal and biro out of the top drawer.  _ I not only fucked up my life, but I seem to have fucked up Amelia’s too. I should have known I would. Me with a child is a laughable idea, and I don’t know why God decided I had to have one. I would have been perfectly pleased to never become a father. I was never ready to be a father. I am not like Bernie.  _

_ But there is no way to take it back. There is no way to send her away once again when things get too real. We made a decision to keep her nearby, and now I have to figure out what that means. What’s more important to me? My life, her life, or my drink and drug?  _

He banged the side of his head with his fist. He hated thinking so hard. He wished for a little drink to take the edge off, but he refused to get up and pour it. He would stay clean this night, he would wake up in the morning sober, and so would Amelia.

They just had to.

He picked up his pen and began to write.

  
  
  


*****************************

  
  


When John awoke, he felt for Elton. He found his side of the bed cold. He sat up quickly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and gazed around the empty room. He shook his head. He knew he should have forced his hand and made Elton come to bed. God only knew what he got up to being so upset and alone.

He threw his dressing gown around him and exited the bedroom quickly. He stuck his head in the office and found that empty as well. He frowned. He opened Amelia’s door and found her sound asleep, with no sign of Elton there either. He rushed down the stairs and looked in every room until he made it to the kitchen.

Elton stood at the sink pouring what seemed like all the liquor in the house down the drain, silent tears falling from his eyes.

“What’re you doing, love?,” John asked, his voice raspy from sleep, as he slowly approached Elton.

He shrugged without looking up from the sink. “Getting rid of the liquor. We can’t sober up if it’s in the house, can we?”

John wrapped his arms around Elton and peppered kisses all over his face. “I am so proud of you, pet. So, so proud.”

Elton smiled slightly. “Ameila’s going to want to kill me when she wakes up.”

“I’ll handle her love. You’ve done so much tonight. Let’s get you to bed, alright?”

They watched the last bottle drain into the sink together.


	13. Bitter Fingers

Amelia wondered how her Dad had done it, but he (and in turn her) had been sober for over two weeks. His consumption was much more than hers, of course, but she still felt the effects of the withdrawal even now. He woke up too damn chipper and ready to tackle anything life threw at him it seemed. 

She just glared at his new enthusiastic morning routine over her black coffee.

Even when the three of them went out for supper, her Papa would only order Coca Cola. No more fancy drinks for him either. It was… disconcerting, if she was completely honest with herself. He hadn’t a problem, but chose to willingly give it up for them. 

She hadn’t realized he could be less than selfish.

Her fingers itched for some type of relief from her thoughts before they took a firmer hold on her psyche. Even the new acoustic guitar her Dad and Papa had bought her for her birthday didn’t do much to cleanse her mind. Ordinarily she would go and speak with her Dad when it began to get too rough inside, but he left to some random country she forgot the name of for the next leg of his tour that morning.

He always chose the wrong times to leave her.

She set her guitar beside her bed and fell back onto her pillows. The room she was given was nice, smaller than her room at her Dad and Papa’s, but much bigger than the walk-in closet sized room she had at her Mum’s newest flat. She had most of her things here and had done her best to make it comfortable. She was tired of being shipped to this place and that. She was tired of starting anew. She was tired of not being listened to.

They promised that would change, then gave her to Uncle Bernie and Aunt Heather.

She held her stuffed bunny that she had had since she was a newborn close to her chest. The same bunny that she would spray with her Dad’s cologne every week to calm herself, (and had done since she was old enough to recognize the scent that calmed her most.)  _ One week. I’ll try this for one week. If it doesn’t work… _

_ Well, I don’t know quite yet what I’ll do. _

She buried her face in her pillow.  _ I need a bloody drink. _

  
  


**********************

  
  


“I need a bloody drink!”

John leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, watching Elton pace with growing amusement. He looked almost frenzied, pulling at what was left of his hair, as he paced the length of the small dressing room. John had learned the hard way since he cleaned up to allow Elton space as he dealt with his emotions.

The black eye Elton had gifted him when he tried to calm him the hell down had just healed, after all.

“Breathe, pet. You don’t need a drink. You need to breathe,” John finally replied.

“I forgot the words to Bennie and the fucking Jetts, John! How could I forget the words to  _ that _ of all songs? It’s going to be all over the papers tomorrow. ‘Nutcase Elton John forgets the words to one of his most popular songs and throws his glass of water at Davey.’”

John chuckled. “I don’t think a headline would ever be that long, pet. And you aren’t a nutcase. You are healing,” he said gently, pushing himself off the wall. He lifted his arms and beckoned him closer. “Come here, love. You’re okay. You’re doing so well. I am so bloody proud of you,” he whispered in his ear, holding the man as tight as he could to him. “Just keep looking forward, love.”

“I’m sorry,” Elton whimpered, pressing his face into John’s suit.

“No need to apologize, pet. I understand.”

“I still need a bloody drink, though…”


	14. She Blinked

Amelia sighed. She had had  _ the _ nightmare once again. The nightmare that usually left her without a sense of  _ being _ for days thereafter. The nightmare that caused her heart to race, her skim to become clammy, and her mind to shut down except for the need to end her life. She sat on the window sill of the open window at her fathers’ estate, having ran from Uncle Bernie and Aunt Heather’s too full house, alone, staring blankly at the night sky.

Ubers were a wonderful creation.

She hugged her knees to her chest, wondering when her vanishing act would be found out, and just how much trouble she would be in. She looked down at her iPhone in her trembling hand and swiped the notifications away. It seemed her disappearance had already been noticed, annoyingly, and soon enough they would figure out where she was.

She hadn’t much time.

She couldn’t keep up the charade any longer. She was  _ not _ okay. She might have told her stepfather some of what was happening, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit, even to herself, all of it. The drink had calmed her thoughts enough to be able to function, but without it, she was a mess. She was fifteen years old, and a fucking mess.

No one would understand, even if she was able to speak of it.

She squeezed her eyes tight, her nightmare now coming into her mind’s eye whilst awake for the first time. She pulled at her braids. She could  _ feel _ it happening again. She could  _ feel _ herself slipping away. She could  _ feel _ the cold. 

She blinked.

She could feel the wind as it rustled around her. She could feel a sensation akin to flying. She could feel the cold ground, soft from the unseasonable warmth and rain they had been having for a week now. She could feel the fucking pain as her limbs refused to budge.

She blinked.

She could feel the rain as it soaked through her thin pajamas. She could feel the mud as she sunk further into the ground, unable to move as the pouring rain continued to come down. She could feel the warm sweet blood as it dripped down her face and into her hair. She smiled slightly, feeling something close to peace.

She blinked.


	15. Waking

_ Tour… important… now _

_ Yes… leave… done… _

_ Elton.... career… now… _

_ No… through… out… _

_ Fucking… stop… idiotic… _

“Just fucking go!”

Amelia came to all at once. The snatches of conversation came into surprising clarity, and she was shocked into consciousness at the sound of her Dad’s cracked voice. She couldn’t remember the last time he had sounded so heartbroken. She heard Uncle Bernie’s deep voice murmuring more words she couldn’t understand, and  _ God _ , she fucking hurt.

“Wha…?,” she managed, before giving into a coughing fit that felt as though it was breaking her already worn body. 

Footsteps rushed to her side and she flinched at just how  _ loud _ everything sounded. Gentle hands carding through her hair, soft voices murmuring incomprehensible words, her eyes shutting despite her best efforts. 

_ What the fuck happened?, _ she finished, as she drifted out of consciousness.

  
  


***************

  
  


“Reg, mate, you have to eat something. It’s been days.”

Elton didn’t even look up from his vigil at his daughter’s side as Bernie continued to pace the room. He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, her pale skin glistening in the harsh light, her eyes moving behind the closed lids… He hated how uncomfortable she was, even in sleep.

“I can’t, Bernie. Please, leave off,” Elton murmured, taking hold of her cool hand.

“But you must, Reg… If you don’t, you are going to get sick, and that’s the last thing Amelia needs right now. If you won’t do it for me, or even just for yourself, do it for her, mate. She needs you strong when she gets up,” Bernie said, and Elton hated just how practical he made it seem.

“Fine, fine… But you’re going to the canteen. I’m not leaving here,” Elton replied, leaning back in his chair. “A stew might be nice.”

“Great! I’ll be right back, mate.”

“Don’t hurry,” Elton called to him as he rushed out the door. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He had had a headache since his quarrel with John that just would not abate, no matter what he took for it. He assumed it was merely stress induced, and once Amelia was awake for longer periods of time it would diminish, but he was growing weary of it.

He felt tears begin to sting his eyes at the mere thought of John, and cursed softly. He really didn’t have it in him to begin a bloody crying drag, but the tears began anew. He still couldn’t believe the  _ nerve _ of that man.  _ The tour is what’s important right now, _ he said, even while Amelia was clinging to life.  _ She will be fine. Your career won’t be. This is why we kept her at arms length for all these years. You need to go home now _ , he had replied when Elton refused to budge. And for some strange fucking reason, he didn’t believe Elton at first when he said they were through. It took Elton yelling at him to leave, and Bernie’s push to the door, to get him to realize that he stepped over the line. 

He looked over at the lilies John had sent up with his apology note, and buried his face in his hands.

  
  


*************************

Amelia woke to the soothing sound of her Dad’s snores beside her. She felt much better than the last time she opened her eyes. Less pain surrounded her, at least. She opened her eyes and saw only her Dad and Uncle Bernie, asleep in the hard plastic chairs the hospital allowed visitors.

Because that’s where she was. Her attempt had failed. She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or annoyed at that fact.

She sat up as best as she was able and pulled the damn oxygen tube out of her nose. She wasn’t elderly, and didn’t need assistance in bloody breathing, thank you very much. She squeezed her Dad’s hand, not trusting her voice, hoping it would be enough to wake him.

It was.

“Oh, darling, how lovely to see your eyes,” Elton whispered, wrapping his arms carefully around her. “It’s been much too long.”

“How long?,” she managed to ask, after drinking some water her Dad carefully held to her mouth because her damn arms were shaking too hard to hold the cup properly.

“Just over a week, darling,” Elton said, a sad smile on his face. “The important thing is you are awake now. Let me just ring your nurse. She’ll explain everything to you, little love.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” she muttered, folding her arms across her chest.

He nodded, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “I’m sure you won’t like what she says either. But soon enough you’ll be home with me, I swear it.”

“Where’s Papa?”

“He’s gone, little love, but sent you some roses and a get well card. He… wishes he could be here,” Elton said hollowly, tapping Bernie on the shoulder. “Amelia’s awake, Bern. I’m going down to tell Nurse Caroline and then head to the canteen. Meet you there?”

Bernie nodded as he watched his friend shove his shaking hands in his trouser pockets and walk unsteadily towards the door. “Be well, Elton. I’ll be there shortly,” he murmured, getting to his feet. He walked towards the bed and hugged Amelia carefully. “I’m glad you’re up, little love. We were terribly worried about you, your Dad especially. Just… Listen to what the doctor and nurse tell you, alright? Your Dad can’t handle much more right now, or else he will end up in the bed next to ya. Please, Amelia, for him.”

Amelia found herself nodding despite herself and the numerous questions she had after the random encounters she had with them both, quieted for now as Uncle Bernie exited the room and the lovely nurse entered and scolded her for not having the oxygen in her nose.


	16. A Newer Beginning

“Do what now?”

The aid groaned, pulling at her hair rather comically, and Amelia smiled. It was times like this she could pretend she was normal. It was times like this she could pretend she was just a regular fifteen year old kid going to classes and worrying about normal day to day activities. It was times like this she could have a laugh over the absurdity that was her life now.

It was also times like this she also remembered she was in the bleeding institution, her own father in the adult wing just next door.

“You want me to write in this stupid little writing tablet, with a pencil because I apparently can’t be trusted with a pen, for fun? Come now, Edith, I failed creative writing for a reason. I hate writing,” Amelia said, picking the pencil up with her fingers. “I’d much rather just sit around and do nothing until I am finally released into the world like the delicate flower I apparently am, thank you.”

“You ain’t a delicate flower,” the aid muttered, running her fingers through her hair this time. “And my name is Evelyn. Not even close, darling. Just write whatever you like, or don’t. I did what I was asked to.”

“Oh, I know your name, but you act more like an Edith. An ‘Evelyn’ would be much nicer.”

“Why do I even bother…,” she muttered, as she walked as quickly away from Amelia’s table as was proper, and Amelia smiled at her retreat.

 _Because it’s your fucking job, you stupid cow…,_ she thought, picking up the pencil. _Now let’s see. What to write about, eh?_ _I wonder if Dad got one of these stupid things too… He’s a much better writer and storyteller than I am. He’s probably already filled up all the pages..._

She missed speaking to her Dad. She might not have seen him much whilst growing up, but they did chat on the phone often enough. She had been in lockup for two weeks now, and she knew she would be released before him. He was detoxing _again_ because her misguided suicide attempt caused him to slide back to the drink and drug while she rehabilitated, and it was all her fault...

 _At least I can visit when I finally leave here,_ she reasoned, wiping the traitorous tears from her eyes. _Uncle Bernie rented a flat nearby to be near us, and visits as often as he can. There is no reason he won’t take me to see Daddy when I finally get out of here._

The medication was holding up her release date. They ran tests and found she had some disorders she refused to learn the name of, just like her Dad, which caused an imbalance in her brain. They wanted her to be safe, sane, and somewhat healthy when they finally released her into Uncle Bernie’s care. 

She just wanted to leave. Her Papa had visited a few times, and reminded her that she should lose her attitude and _God_ how tiring hearing the same thing year after year was. Now though, she was in a position in which she could tell him to leave her be. 

She told him to fuck off and leave her alone for once in his blasted existence… Uncle Bernie had choked on his tea and told her off a bit, but the smile on his face belied his true feelings on the matter.

_Things will be different when I get out of here. Things will be normal. There will be happiness for me and Daddy... I swear it. At least I did end up inadvertently getting him the help he needed..._

She bent her head and began to write.


	17. Ridiculous

Seeing  _ the _ Elton John in the hospital-issued drab pajamas was something Amelia could not get over, no matter how hard she tried. Her father was all colors, and music, and sound. He was… interesting outfits and hats and even more ridiculous spectacles. He stared at her over the most boring silver wireframes she had ever seen on his face, the smile reserved only for her that she truly wished she could return.

“I told Papa to fuck off,” she said, rubbing her fingernails on her blue jumper, unsure where to even  _ begin _ a bloody conversation without sharing screwdrivers, it seemed. “He pissed me off when he came to visit the last time.”

Elton’s smile widened. “Good, good. He no doubt deserved it.”

“I suppose… He pretty much told me to get over myself. That things weren’t ‘that bad’. Like he could see inside my head or shite...” She looked around the visitor’s room, so much different than the children’s wing next door. “How are you dealing?,” she asked. “This wing is so fucking gloomy I don’t even know how you can be smiling.”

Elton chuckled. “It’s nice and peaceful, really, compared to the life I was living. I have been writing a bit, and even got myself in front of the piano yesterday. Your Uncle Bernie dropped off some lyrics for me to keep busy with. He is also dropping off some clothes for me as well as… Nothing I brought fits anymore.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “John… He… He hasn’t stopped in to see me, but I’m glad he visited with you, Amelia.”

Amelia couldn’t hold back her surprise. “He hasn’t? But… He’s basically your husband, innit he? Why would he stay away? When you need him so much right now? Bloody arsehole...”

Elton only shrugged. “Time will only tell if we continue a relationship upon my release, whether it be business or personal, Amelia, and I do hope you will understand that. I… I’m not certain what my future holds, but I do know that it will be better than I had.”

Amelia nodded briskly. As much as she wanted them to break up when she was growing up, having it happen now just seemed like rotten timing to her. God help her, but she thought having her Papa in their lives was a good thing whilst they healed, even if he was a pompous ass. “I’ll try, Daddy.”

Elton smiled softly. “I know you will, little love. I know you will.” He sighed. “I asked Bernie to send you back home whilst I am here, but I don’t think he will be. I think he wants to keep you close. You scared us, love.”

“I won’t be going anywhere, Daddy. I will be closeby as long as you’ll have me. I… I need you. You understand me more than anyone ever will.”

“Because you  _ are _ me, little love, and I am so, so sorry.”

Amelia was silent because, really… What could she say to that?

  
  


*********************

The ride back towards the flat was quiet. Uncle Bernie seemed more weary after his time with her Dad’s counselors than he had been in any time previous. She was thankful he was in their corner, though, and was willing to spend such time ensuring her Dad’s treatment went as planned.

Even if it caused such fights between him and Aunt Heather Amelia spent most of the evening with her head under a pillow.

He pulled into the McDonalds nearby and ordered for them. He had given up asking what she wanted after their fourth trip there in so many days, it seemed. Apparently asking for only a small sandwich is not the smartest when the mental health center recommended her to gain some weight.

Nevermind that whatever she ate tasted like ash anyway and she barely ate whatever combination he got for her. It was the thought that counted, she supposed.

“Uncle Bernie… Have you talked to Papa?,” she finally asked during the commercial break on the radio station.

“I have, little love. He’s staying clear for now, but I have been keeping him up to date on your Dad’s progress.”

“How much longer will he be there?”

Bernie shrugged, tapping the wheel with his hands whilst he waited for the damn drive through to actually move. “It could be days, it could be weeks. He’s doing well in treatment, though, so every day he stays is a win in my eyes,” he said, his voice distant to Amelia’s ears. 

“I see,” she muttered, leaning back in the bucket seat. “Do you think Papa will come back?”

Bernie flinched. “I hope not… I never realized how much was  _ wrong _ . I am such a shite friend,” he muttered, pulling the truck out of the drive through and parking. “I’m having a smoke, then I’ll get you dinner. Sorry, love, I need to breathe for a mom’.”

And just  _ why _ was every man in her life ridiculous, Amelia had to wonder, shaking her head.


	18. Hope

Elton had expected Bernie waiting for him outside in the garden, with bright eyes and a new sheet of lyrics for him to create magic with. He had expected perhaps Amelia, her fiery hair and fiery attitude, ready to set him straight with some misplaced words. Fuck, he had even expected Raymond Williams, ready to talk business after the fiasco of a talk they had just the other day on the behest of Bernie.

He hadn’t expected John.

Rather than turn tail and run back into the center, he made his way towards the stone bench, taking in the handsome features he had missed so much. His black hair, now streaked with grey, not a strand out of place. The red tie set around his neck was just the right amount of color underneath his neat black suit and atop his starched black collared shirt. His oxfords looked freshly polished, and the bouquet of roses in his hand shook slightly within his hands.

Elton felt his breath catch.

He scuffed his slippered foot on the brick walkway, feeling quite ordinary suddenly. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so common, wearing the off brand sweats Bernie had dropped off weeks ago now, his hair in a complete disarray, his spectacles as plain as could be. He took a deep breath and with great difficulty, finished the trek to the bench.

“Hallo,” Elton said, looking up at the sky. “Fancy seeing you here.”

John squeezed Elton’s thigh. “Well, it took a bit of bullying, but I finally made my way to see you. Our daughter is a master manipulator, it seems, and I am weary of what she will be like when she matures to adulthood.”

Elton blinked. “You’ve never called Amelia ‘our daughter’ before. Never, in any point of our relationship, have you done so. It was always ‘ _ your _ daughter’. What’s changed?”

“We almost lost her,” John whispered. “Then in my foolishness, I just may have lost you. I…”

Elton gaped when he saw John, his lover of over a decade, his dominant for almost as long, begin to cry in earnest. John was the strong one. John was the one who always had the answers. John was the one who controlled every bit of his life, business and personal. 

_ It seemed I forgot he was a real person, with real feelings, and he could hurt just as much as I can, _ Elton thought, wrapping his arms around him, whispering softly into his ear that he  _ hadn’t _ lost him, he would  _ never _ lose him, he was just so  _ scared _ and  _ lost _ and lashed out because John  _ never _ took what he said to heart. He was his safe place, his haven in the darkness that was his mind, and he  _ needed _ him more than he needed anything else.

“They think I’m ready to leave,” Elton whispered, cuddling close to John’s side. “They said if I was ready I could sign out anytime. I just… I just didn’t know where to go if I had. Bernie’s already in it deep with Heather since he hasn’t been home in months, and really, our home’s much too large for just me…”

“It’s too large for both of us, love. I’ve been telling you this for years,” John said with a watery smile. 

“So we find somewhere new to start over again?” Elton felt a new feeling bubble up within him. One he hadn’t felt in so long he forgot the name of it.

“Yes, somewhere new where you can decorate it as camp as you like, as long as I still get my one room I can have as I want it.”

“Or we can decorate it together?,” Elton asked, his voice small. “I just… I just want to be normal, if only for a little bit. Isn’t that what true couples do? Make decisions together?”

When John kissed him deeply, possessively, breathtakingly, Elton realized what that feeling was.  _ Hope. _

“So where were you thinking of looking? Would you want to go back overseas?,” John asked as they both stood up, interlacing their hands together. “Or stay in the states? Would you want to go back to work right away, or perhaps take some time off? Whatever you think is best I will back you 100 percent, love.”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead, to be honest. I was just trying to get through detox, then the stupid medications, then the stupid group therapies… I have been writing though. I think… I think I might have a couple of hits, if I so choose.”

“Of course you do, pet. Everything you touch turns to gold. I am so proud of you and how far you have come. No thanks to me…”

“None of that now, Sir… My therapists say you can’t allow what’s happened get the best of you. Without you I would have just been another junkie performer. You helped make me a star, John.”

John squeezed his hand. “I also made you a junkie, if I remember correctly.”

Elton shrugged. “I would have found the powder somehow, and I already was drinking too much. The important thing is I’m on the narrow now, and plan to stay that way. I’ll just… I’ll just need some help.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

_ Hope. _


	19. The end is a new kind of beginning

Amelia always wondered how her life would have turned out if she never went to her fathers’ home that summer. She always wondered if she would have become so overwhelmed that she jumped from the third story window. She always wondered if she would have gotten help for her alcohol problem. She always wondered if her fathers’ would have broken up, just to get back together, stronger than ever before.

Most of the time she was able she was able to put those thoughts to bed rather quickly. Tonight, though, was different.

She sat at the bay window, staring at the sprawling grounds of their estate in Surrey, just as she had those few years ago in Los Angeles. Her thoughts were more muted, more introspective than they had been then, at least. She had no wish to jump at least, even if she knew her Dad would have an aneurysm if he saw her now.

He never quite got over seeing her broken body in the mud, and he never would…

She healed from the fall, of course, as most young people do. She had aches and pains that would follow her throughout her adult life, but she was capable of most everything teenagers were able to do. Life continued as well as could be expected, with the past that dogged each step.

She couldn’t imagine now the depths of despair she felt that night, though, and for that, she counted herself blessed.

The small bungalow her fathers bought after her dad was released was quaint and tastefully decorated. The large bedroom she took as her own was full of random hobbies she had taken on after sitting her exams, just as tastefully decorated as the rest of the house. Her fathers had sold quite a bit of their belongings, bringing in quite a bit of money for charity, as apparently anything her Dad touched turned to gold, as her Papa had said often enough.

She never understood the appeal.

She watched her Uncle Bernie emerge from the small cabin they had built on the grounds for him and smiled. It seemed marriage had been the death sentence his relationship had been waiting for, and after years of caring for both her and her Dad, her Papa had decided that him squatting in different hotel rooms was a silly arrangement. He surprised her Dad after a round on the road with book signings to Bernie living in the backyard.

What followed was the most… passionate kiss she had ever seen them share, along with the embarrassed she had ever seen her Papa look.  _ Thank God for cell phone cameras _ , she thought, looking at the photo on the bedside table and smiling at the memory.

She got to her feet slowly, rather stiff from sitting at the window for so long, and stretched. Today was the day she had been waiting for since she was a little girl. Her fathers were finally allowed to marry, and she was able to stand as their witness. Times were changing and she was so thankful to be a part of it.


End file.
